


Advice for the young at heart

by AethraCaelis



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Inspired by The Crown, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 02:38:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9858272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AethraCaelis/pseuds/AethraCaelis
Summary: There were few things that Allura remembered from her early years, and before she lost her father and Altea. Most of them came through like visions through frosted glass. Some, however, came through clearly like young Balmera crystals -- like three pieces of advice from Zarkon.(I recently finished binge-watching The Crown, and decided to use the three lines that struck me most as writing prompts.)





	1. The Warrior and the Diplomat

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "The Crown must always win."

"... less 'Yellow Paladin', more ' _King_ Alfor', my friend."

Allura, at her corner in her father's study, swatted at a color-matching whack-a-mole light up mat with her little hands, guarded by a pudgy robot nanny. The exchange of voices for her was background noise, a normality. Whether she was already capable of understanding what was being discussed was wishful thinking at best, given that she has only lived for two star-cycles at the time. The statement from the Black Paladin didn't come to the little girl as a threat. She felt the fond undercurrent in it, and she knew, in her still molding mind, that the voice was to be trusted.

"I just don't think that imposing tighter regulations is applicable for this alliance. I believe that a show of goodwill is a better way to nurture a long-term relationship."

The Black Paladin hummed in thought. It sounded more like a purr, and Allura liked that sound. She looked up from her playing, eyes on the dark profile framed by the light from the large windows behind her father's desk.

"Drawing limitations as to what they can or cannot do is a show of benevolence in itself. There is still freedom within walls, and you will be giving them a very wide space to move in."

Attention caught by silver embroidery that caught the light on a sleeve, Allura got up from her playing and wobbled towards the Black Paladin, little hands reaching out for the hem of his sleeve, robot nanny in close by. He turned his attention to Allura, a gentle smile reaching the corners of his irisless eyes, clawed hands surprisingly light as he petted her silver hair.

"You like shiny things, Princess?"

Allura nodded her head as she stroked the fabric. "Yes."

"Allura, sweetheart, don't bother your uncle Zarkon."

The princess looked up to her father with a frown on her face, then looked to Zarkon with look that was not quite pleading for pity, but more of a demand to take her side. The look made him chuckle, and he picked her up to sit her on his lap.

"She isn't a bother, Alfor, please." Addressing Allura, "But you must listen to your father, princess..." then turning a pointed gaze to Alfor. "He knows what is best for you."

A child wouldn't know what the moment of silence that followed meant. Besides, she had closer access to the shiny things she liked. She heard her father sigh.

"Right. I'll have Coran draft a contract." Alfor made a soft sound of amusement. "What would I do without your counsel, my friend?"

"Probably spending time enough at the Fripping Bulgogian to make the Queen worry."

Zarkon rose from his seat, lifting Allura high off the ground. She liked being carried by the Black Paladin -- he was taller than her father, and she could see further and higher, and it was, in her opinion, the best place to be. "Don't forget you have a crown on your head, Alfor. You are no longer the father of just Allura, and not just of Altea, but of all the people Voltron has sworn to protect."

Allura giggled and spread her arms and legs as if she were flying, enjoying the strong and steady support the Black Paladin was giving her. Alfor raised a brow. "Why, again, _aren't_ you the one wearing the crown?"

The little princess looked down at the Black Paladin, and reached out to touch his face. "Because I am a warrior, and you are a diplomat. In this age, the diplomat is favored for rule."


	2. The Father and the Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zarkon deals with a rebellious teenage princess, and mends the relationship between her and her father-king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "A good dressing down from Nanny is what [powerful men] most want in life."

"Next!"

All senses tingling, quintessence lashing like solar flares, Allura waited for the training gladiator with a higher level to appear. Body poised for attack and prepared for a frontal assault, she failed to detect the gladiator that materialized from the floor behind her.

"Behind you, Princess."

Her opponent was no longer of a solid humanoid form, but something that moved like sand, easily getting into her blind spots. She found herself relying on her suit's particle shield when she was itching to pound her fists onto something with resistance, only to find the substance reaching for her feet, forcing her to leap back.

"Change form. Outrun or subdue-- "  
"Stop!"

Upon Allura's command, the sand-like form fell flat on the ground and seeped through slits on the training floor. She tore off her helmet and shook out her hair, and glared at the intruder on the control deck.

"I didn't ask for your assistance, Zarkon."  
"The opponent was unfamiliar to you, Princess."  
" _That_  is the point of the training, in case you've forgotten."

Allura knew that the Black Paladin didn't deserve her temper. She was angry at someone else, and she had decided to take it out in the training room. Unsatisfied, she still saw red, and kept her gaze on him. Zarkon didn't flinch, unmoved by her display of fury, but the smile that tugged at his mouth was undeniably pleased.

"Then perhaps you should have called on me, if you wanted a challenge. May I join you, Princess?"

If she were older, she would have declined. She knew how Zarkon had the reputation of being unequaled in battle, which was part of the reason why he was the Head of Voltron. Even her father wouldn't dare challenge him in a fist fight. But her teenage ego was flattered by the idea of training with the most feared warrior in the known universe.

"Yes--" and finally remembering her manners, "please."

At her age, the top of her head barely went past the Black Paladin's ribcage, but that hadn't fazed her. While Allura rested in the trust that he wouldn't intentionally hurt her, her senses were drawn tight in a mix of fear and anticipation, quintessence ringing over the unique rush that battle brought.

The Black Paladin sensed that aggresion coming from the Princess' aura. In terms of diplomacy, she was her father's daughter; but in battle, she was more...

"Come."

Zarkon knew what would rile that spirit even further: make the young princess believe that he was underestimating her by letting her hit him first, and it was a bait she easily took. Launching into an attack, Allura changed her form into something closer to Zarkon's size.

"Balmeran's are a sturdy but gentle people, Princess." Zarkon moved with ease, blocking her attacks as if she were merely swatting at him. "Built more for heavy labor than battle."

"I don't need lectures from you, Paladin!"

Unaccustomed to the shift in weight in her limbs and forgetting she had a tail to use for balance, Allura fell to the ground as Zarkon avoided a swing. She came to a crouch to propel herself into a tackle, intent on bringing her oponent down. To her surprise, Zarkon didn't dodge her grip, but remained firmly planted on the ground.

"Enough lectures from the King?"

Allura's face showed hurt upon mention of 'the King', and she pulled back, turning into a Vistilian -- reptile-like people who are known for their immunity to fire. Using her legs to launch herself upward, she spun to use her long tail as a whip. Zarkon took the blow, and used the momentum for a feint to grab the tail and slam her to the floor. Thankfully, the Vistilian were also known to be creatures uninjured by blunt force due to their uncanny flexibility, but the impact still knocked the air out of Allura.

After a few recovering breaths: "He won't... listen to me." She had nothing broken, but the fall came as a shock to her senses, breaking bottled thoughts open. She looked to her opponent with eyes wet from frustration and suppressed anger. "I'm not a child anymore, Zarkon! I can activate the crystals, I can pilot a ship! I am doing well in my lessons, I have perfect marks in the simulations, but all I hear from father is, 'no'!"

Zarkon released the tail from his grip, and Allura changed back to her original form. He didn't correct her statement about not being a child to her face, but kept that thought in mind as she brought herself to sit up on the floor. He crossed his legs under him, facing her.

"Have you told him this?"

Allura rubbed at her face with the back of her hand, not wanting to show tears. He could hear them in her voice, though.

"No. I can't even get a word in."  
"Have you tried speaking to him as the Princess?"

The question made Allura look at Zarkon as if he just turned into a Yupper. "I _am_ the Princess. I am his _daughter_."

"It's a father's role to protect his daughter. But it's the King's work to delegate duties to a Princess."

Allura's eyes widened as the realization sank in. Zarkon patted her head as she digested that thought.

"Ask for a formal audience so that he will give you the space you need to speak. His being a father to you will most likely still win out, but at the least you will show him you are able to negotiate and communicate like a diplomat. It's a good place to start."

The princess' cheeks turned red as she pouted and looked away, guilty. Zarkon chuckled, amused.

"You have been giving him the cold shoulder for several quintants now. Even I wouldn't recommend it as a diplomatic tactic."


	3. The Counselor and the Traitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one truly saw the changes as they were happening, as if they were merely seasons that went by and that once spring has gone, it will be spring again.
> 
> Save that it was the last spring Altea had seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Let them look at you, but let them see only the eternal."

"Ready for your first diplomatic tour, Princess?"

The changes were subtle. A few drops more purple and red washed out white and black. Quintant by quintant, a shadow grew closer and closer to the Black Paladin, while her father grew more and more distant from his friend. No one truly saw the changes as they were happening, as if they were merely seasons that went by and that once spring has gone, it will be spring again.

Save that it was the last spring Altea had seen.

The crowds that had gathered outside the Castle of Lions cheered, threw juniberry petals and waved flags that bore the insigna of the five Paladins of Voltron and the standard of the Altean monarch. Coran had been first to embark to make sure that all systems were ready. King Alfor was already making his way in, waving to his subjects with a smile both sincere yet barely concealed his exhaustion from carrying the weight of a crown. The crown Princess lingered behind, smiling for her people and embracing friends -- most notably, the famed Galra warrior and Black Paladin.

"Yes! I am more than ready! I've been waiting for this for so long!"

It felt off to Allura that Zarkon was not wearing the armor of the Black Paladin, but she figured that since he had a different assignment for the first part of the tour, he would prefer to wear the colors of his people. Besides, the roaring festivities and her long-awaited opportunity to apply all that she had learned kept her heart and thoughts happily afloat.

"Please accept this humble gift. Something to mark the occasion."

Zarkon then placed a small box in Allura's hands, which she eagerly opened to see a pair of purple crystal earrings.

"These are beautiful, Zarkon! Thank you!" Placing a hand on his shoulder for leverage, to which Zarkon instinctively responded by leaning forward, Allura placed a kiss on his cheek.

"You're welcome, Princess. They are communicators as well, so that wherever you are, you'll be able to call on friends."

King Alfor was already calling for Allura to board, but Zarkon's hand placed gently on her head bid her to stay for a moment longer.

"A piece of advice, Princess. Let them watch 'Allura', but don't let them see. Show them Voltron."

***

At the time, she hadn't understood Zarkon's advice. Of course, the universe will see Voltron, but they would see her too. But after ten thousand feebs, nobody knew who the first Paladins were save for their number, 'Alfor' was just a grafitti on a table on the Fripping Bulgogian, and Voltron barely existed as a tale to lull a Balmeran child to sleep. But Zarkon -- the present universe may not even know how Zarkon looked like, but they knew the Galran Empire, 'The Emperor', regardless of the name behind the title.

Allura vowed that she won't be making the same mistakes her father did. She has learned, and she was learning still. The age of the soft-hearted diplomat had gone, and it was time to put an end to the age of tyranny. It was time to put those lessons to work, make things right, to give birth to something new, and make thousands upon thousands of generations remember the name of Voltron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These drabbles have been nipping at my brain stems ever since I finished watching The Crown, and I just knew I wanted to write something involving Zarkon and Allura. 
> 
> Thank you for reading :D!


End file.
